I'm a writer, mostly of speculative fiction, living in rural Tasmania. I've got a rural GP wife and three small kids, and I keep a running commentary of life here so that when my kids are old enough to give a shit, they can read up and discover who their parents used to be.
I tried doing this on paper, but I sucked at it. So I tried doing it online with an audience. It worked.
May contain adult language and concepts. Deal with it.

Friday, January 8, 2010

Younger Son, Elder Son, the Mau-Mau and some gigantic goon in a solar topee holding buckets full of fresh, perfectly ripened blueberries.

That was our morning, right there. Natalie is on call, so she's in and out and round about. I rousted the kids early. We packed away a bit of breakfast, and slathered on the sunscreen. (It's meant to reach 31C today, and I think we're just about there right now.)

It took us about forty leisurely minutes in the gentle morning breezes to load up our buckets. We picked something like eight and a half kilos of blueberries. I've shoved some in the deep freeze, to be brought out now and again through the year. But there's an enormous bowl of them on the table, and an unopened bag on the counter in the kitchen.

Tonight, in honour of the summery weather, we shall feast upon antipasto. There will be garden-fresh vegetables. There will be smoked pork, and cheeses, and ham. There will be olives and pickles. Indeed, I've pickled half a kilo of button mushrooms which will be perfectly cooled and ready to go come dinner time.

After dinner, we will have big slabs of melt-in-the-mouth shortbread, and piles of fresh, amazing blueberries, served up with big scoops of home-made French vanilla ice cream.

Meanwhile, I have to finish up what I'm doing here, and set up for a rousing game of Monster Apocalypse with Elder Son... but first, I think, another beer.

Heidi: that's 'cos I never bother posting photos of us blobbing out on the floor of the lounge room. Mind you, that's kind of fun too.

Moko: there's an Army Disposal place in Launceston where the proprietor has a very, very cool attitude towards offbeat hats. I'd have picked myself up a proper top hat there, except they had none in my size. The Solar Topee was an Xmas gift for Younger Son, but it has an adjustable band inside. It's made in Viet Nam, if that helps at all...